Spectres
by Darkness.Is.Ever.Shadowed
Summary: Post-Reichenbach. Sebastian Moran spends some time with Jim at his house.


Spectres. That's all everyone was anymore.

He lived in a world of ghosts, a world of spirits.

Sebastian Moran woke up at his usual early hour. He looked at the other side of the bed where Jim Moriarty still lay sleeping. He resisted the urge to wake up his boss- he looked surprisingly peaceful sleeping in the massive bed. So Sebastian stifled a yawn and tossed on a robe. Even though there wasn't anyone in the house but Jim and himself, he wouldn't want to greet an unexpected visitor in only his boxers.

He walked down the stairs into the kitchen, where remnants of the night before lay strewn about. Shattered beer bottles, an empty bottle of vodka lying in a puddle of the stuff, burned out cigarettes littering the floor.

He kicked a pillow that was soaked through with alcohol, sending it across the room. Opening a cabinet, he groaned in dismay. The cabinet was empty.

"What a shame, eh, Sebby?" Jim Moriarty said with a slight yawn. "You'll have to go out to the store." Sebastian looked over at Jim.

"You know I can't do that, Jim." Jim jumped on top of the counter and sat there, gazing at Sebastian. He tilted his head, and then he tossed it back in realization.

"Ah yes, the dark avenging spirit, right," he drawled. "Look Sebby, I'm with you, he won't dare haunt you." Sebastian rolled his eyes.

"You know I deserve him haunting me, Jim." Jim jumped down from the counter and placed a hand gently on Sebastian's shoulder.

"Fine," he sighed. "We just won't eat breakfast today." Sebastian smiled as Jim brought his face closer to Sebastian's.

"Well I suppose we ought to clean up, shall we?" Jim asked, pulling away at the last moment teasingly. Sebastian raised his eyebrows at his boss but began to pick up the empty bottles.

"This is my house, Jim. You can't give me orders here."

"No, but I can make suggestions," Jim said, walking lightly about the kitchen. He brushed his fingers along the wood cabinets, marble counters, everything he could touch.

"Oh, Sebby?" Sebastian looked up.

"What is it, Jim?" he asked.

"Why did you put on a robe, Sebby? You know I love to watch you work, and it's so much easier when you don't have something obstructing my view." Sebastian sighed and gave Jim a look of exasperation.

"What if someone stops by, Jim? I don't want to greet them wearing nothing but my boxers. You obviously don't have that problem." Jim leaned on the wall and grinned cheekily.

"Obviously not, Sebby." Sebastian rolled his eyes and continued cleaning up while Jim watched.

"You know, you could have helped clean up," Sebastian grumbled as he wiped his hands on a towel. "It wouldn't have hurt." Jim tossed an apple repeatedly into the air, whistling as he did so.

"I have my own work to do, Seb, you know that." He took a large bite from the apple and chewed it quietly. Sebastian sighed and stood up, looking around the now-clean kitchen.

"Well what's the plan today… _boss_?" Sebastian asked with a crooked grin. Jim laughed and took Sebastian's hand, tugging him to the living room.

"Well since you have decided we aren't allowed to go outside," he sang, "we'll just have to stay in and find our own entertainment."

"I'm not watching 'Look Around You' with you again, Jim." Jim's face fell.

"Why not?"

"Because last time, you wanted me to shoot the telly. And when I didn't, you went into my armory and took a gun, and you _shot the telly yourself_." Jim frowned and leaned on Sebastian.

"Come on Sebby," Jim pleaded. "We can watch what you want this time." Sebastian raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Honestly Jim, I've not even shaved yet. I'm still in my robe; you're still wearing hardly anything…" Jim rolled his eyes.

"Gracious Seb. Live a little." With that, he gently pushed Sebastian backwards onto the couch, and lay on his side beside him.

"You know, we don't have to watch telly."

"I know, Sebby," Jim purred, resting his head on Sebastian's shoulder as they lay beside each other on the rather large couch.

The day had gone by quickly. Jim and Seb had hardly moved from the couch until late in the afternoon, when they went into one of the spare rooms to shoot the walls.

"I've always hated that color," Sebastian laughed as they left the room.

"You needed some redecorating in there," Jim quipped, doubled over with laughter. Sebastian looked at Jim and impulsively pulled him in for a kiss. Jim seemed shocked at first, but soon returned the gesture.

"What brought that on, Sebby?" Jim asked, breathless, as they pulled away. Sebastian looked at him with a sad gaze.

"Because you're gone and never coming back. And I miss you, damnit Jim. And I know you're not really here with me, that you shot yourself in that idiot damn head of yours." Jim was silent and listened to Sebastian.

"Jim, I miss you, okay? I admit it. I can't face life; I can't face anything without you anymore. It's all falling apart and I can't do it." He lifted the gun and tossed it across the hall.

"Jim, why did you have to go and kill yourself you selfish bastard? Why did you have to leave me alone?" Jim reached out a hand to comfort Sebastian, but the assassin turned away from Moriarty and shuffled down the stairs to the kitchen.

He rummaged around until he found full bottles of alcohol. He set them on the counter and began to pour himself a large drink.

"Seb, I—" Jim began, but Sebastian simply tried to splash Jim with the remainder of his drink.

"Go. Get out, Jim." Jim looked pleadingly back at Sebastian, but the assassin proceeded to down more of the alcohol into his stomach.

He had crashed on the couch, his words slurring and his vision blurry. Jim tentatively walked in, wearing his casual outfit.

"Sebby?" he whimpered. "Seb, look, I—" Sebastian looked up.

"Jim, I know you aren't alive anymore, that you're just… haunting me or something. But I can't help it Jim, I miss you."

"I miss you too, Seb," Jim replied, walking over to the assassin. "Just um, let me help you to bed?" He reached over to Sebastian and helped lift the man to his feet. They walked up to Sebastian's room, seeming to help each other. When they walked in, Jim let Seb fall gently onto his bed.

"Jim?"

"Yeah Sebby?"

"I know you're dead and all that, but could you do me a favor?" Jim looked at him.

"What is it, Seb?"

"Can you just stay with me again?" Jim smiled sadly and crawled into bed next to Sebastian, wrapping his arms around him. Sebastian's mouth turned up in a smile as he began to drift off to sleep.

And the ghost of Jim Moriarty, consulting criminal, slowly dissolved into nothingness.


End file.
